


Pains of Love

by DoreyG



Category: Benjamin January Mysteries - Barbara Hambly
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, bullet wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25178659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: “Maestro?” He hissed into the dark, when he judged that he was roughly at the place where their altercation had happened earlier. And then, significantly more panicked as this elicited only the rustle of leaves and the pop of mud bubbles: “Ben?”
Relationships: Benjamin January/Abishag Shaw
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5
Collections: Rare Male Slash Exchange 2020





	Pains of Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sadlikeknives](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadlikeknives/gifts).



Once he had everything in place, the slave stealing band ensconced in an easily viewable band of the river for the night and his men subtly spaced in a circle around them, he slipped out of the camp and walked into the swamp. He tried to be careful, he wasn’t a complete bumbling idiot thank you very much, but he couldn’t deny that most of his attention wasn’t on the world around him.

“Maestro?” He hissed into the dark, when he judged that he was roughly at the place where their altercation had happened earlier. And then, significantly more panicked as this elicited only the rustle of leaves and the pop of mud bubbles: “ _Ben_?”

To his surprise, his deliriously joyful surprise, there was a more deliberate rustle of leaves at that. And then a low groan, a wonderfully familiar voice emerging out of the almost pitch black. “Over here, Shaw. Under the tree with the broken branch.”

“Thank _god_ ,” he said fervently, with more enthusiasm than he’d ever approached religion with before, and scrambled over in the direction indicated. 

Ben was, indeed, sitting under a tree with an impressively broken branch. The man looked rather more wan than usual, and with a sickening blood stain marring the arm of his shirt, but otherwise remarkably well. He couldn’t help himself: he scrambled up the slight incline to the tree, went to his knees, cupped Ben’s face in between his hands and kissed the man as hard as he could.

“Shaw,” Ben said gently, several minutes later once his lips were free again. He couldn’t quite see the man’s eyes in the dim light, but he would bet that they were curious. “Not that I’m protesting, certainly not, but you’re not usually that eager to kiss me in public.”

“This isn’t public, this is a swamp in the middle of nowhere,” he pointed out, and couldn’t resist the urge to rest his forehead against Ben’s for a few moments more. It’d been a long and stressful day, he was allowed a little relaxation. “And I’m always eager to kiss you in public, Maestro. I’m just usually a little more restrained about it.”

“When you haven’t just shot me, you mean?” Ben asked wryly, and then made a soothing sound as he stiffened and gathered him in with his uninjured arm. “Which we agreed was the only possible way forward, and was a very sensible idea given the circumstances.”

“Did I hurt you?” He asked Ben’s chest, and then winced at his own stupidity and tilted his head up until he could squint into the man’s shadowed face. “Sorry, dumb question. Of course I hurt you, I put a bullet in you.”

“It didn’t go into me, it just winged me. You were far too good a shot for anything else,” Ben said, very firmly, and tightened that arm around him until his ribs were pleasantly creaking. “And it doesn’t hurt that much- No, don’t give me that look. It hurts a bit, but it’s more a graze than anything else. It shouldn’t take too long to heal.”

“Sitting in a swamp?” He asked dubiously, unable to help the guilty lurch of concern in his belly. “With filth all around you, and slave traders about ten minutes walk away?”

“Believe me, I don’t intend to remain in a filthy swamp with slave traders ten minutes away for any longer than I have to. It should heal very easily, when I soon return to town,” Ben said wryly. And hesitated for only a second before tentatively lifting his injured arm, running fingers gently through his hair. “Your worry is appreciated, though.”

“Of course I’m worried,” he snapped, mildly surprised when his voice emerged shaky and slightly high pitched. He hadn’t lost control since he’d been a boy, but somehow he was as close to a hysterical fit as he’d ever been. “My lover is injured in a hopelessly dangerous situation, and literally every part of it is my fault. I think I’m _allowed_ to be a tiny bit concerned in _this_ sort of situation, Ben!”

“Shaw,” Ben said, sounding mildly shocked but still utterly firm, and tightened his grip in his hair as he only continued to shudder. “ _Abishag_ , hush. Unless you want to bring an alligator down on us?”

A good point. A good point that made him feel even more helplessly guilty, but still a good point. He took in a few deep breaths to calm himself, folded his legs under him and sagged against Ben obediently.

“Not every part of this is your fault, and your fault alone,” Ben continued, after making sure that he wasn’t likely to lapse into hysterics. Which was probably sensible, he’d never been tempted to lapse into hysterics before but he sure was now. “One of the things I love about you, Shaw, is that you always give me a choice and that was as true in this case as any other. You asked me to help you with this case, and I accepted. You asked me to follow you into the swamp, and I accepted. You very reluctantly suggested that you should shoot at me, and I not only accepted but suggested that it would look more realistic if you actually caught me. We’re equal partners in this, Shaw, and you shouldn’t pretend otherwise.”

“I guess you’re right,” he said reluctantly, wriggling even further into Ben’s warm and surprisingly muscular chest. “I just… I don’t like the thought of you being hurt.”

“Strangely enough,” Ben said wryly. “I’m not entirely keen on it myself.”

“And I especially don’t like the thought of you being hurt because I hurt you,” he continued stubbornly, feeling slightly sick at willingly revealing so much emotion but knowing that Ben - as ever - absolutely deserved it. “And I know that was as agreed, I _know_ , but in this here scenario that hardly makes it better. I shot you, the man I love, and it’s insane that that was a sensible decision. I shouldn’t be able to shoot you, and get away with it. Nobody should be able to shoot you and get away with it, and it’s fucked up that that’s allowed.”

Ben remained silent for a long moment, his only movement the fingers of his injured arm still toying absently with his hair. “Unfortunately, that’s just the way the world is.”

“I know,” he whispered, and turned his head so that he could nuzzle a kiss into the palm of Ben’s hand. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t stupid, shouldn’t be changed. And that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t do anything, anything at all, to make you safe and happy and free from ridiculous bullshit for the rest of your life.”

Ben stared at him through the dark. He still couldn’t entirely see the man’s face, his ravishingly attractive eyes, but he could feel the pressure of the gaze against his skin.

He flushed. “Of course, you almost certainly know all that already.”

“I do, but it’s always nice to hear it out loud,” Ben said, voice soft, and leaned in to give him another brief and brushing and utterly all consuming kiss. “Come on, there’s no point in dwelling on it. I’d be very appreciative if you could help me bind my arm up a bit better while you’re here. And then you should probably return to the slave traders, and make sure they fall neatly into your trap.... Oh, and Shaw?”

“Yes?” He asked, already sitting obediently back on his heels and reaching carefully for Ben’s blood soaked arm.

“I love you too.”


End file.
